The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1887-01-01
.neer Of the world. BE my vic. Gladr,. ]

sncer Of the world. BE my wife, Gladys.
want you, dear, so much"
1t was so like him--so generous, so noble
and = sob rose in her heart--a hot, re-
bellious sob-for the man she must, for hi,
own sake, resign. Other men might have
offered the poor actress love, adulatien, the
insult Of gold; but they would have hest
tatcd before lifting her from the scums OF
the earth to place by their side an hon.
orable right to their naughty names.
But few hours ago Mrs. Lauraine. the
dainty, beautiful mother of this high born
lover, had sought her at the theatre--had
gone down on her knees in velvets and
diamonds and priceless furs-and begged
Gladys Calderwold to spare her boy, to moi
lead him on TO his ruin.
Only the day before, the glitterng carri.
age of his sistsr-wifo of foreign noble
man-had nearly run her down, while the
owner smiled fndolently among the cusn.
ions, and her companion, Leo Hartand,
sneered audibly, as II she had been dust
beneath the carriage wheels.
1t had always been her chief aim to
guard her name from scandals but now she
had no power to stay the reports-foul and
false as their instigators-that connected
her name with that Of Hugh Lauraine.
At first she blamed him most-the man
who loved her. Why must he dog her foot.
steps-why must he take hand in sully-
ing her fair namep 1t was so cowardly. so
ungenerous, an6 she watered her pillow,
and the golden head Of little Laurie with
bitter, unavailing tears. She prayed for
death for release, for, to her, indeed, life
had become dreary, wicked thing-a de-
lusion.
The world would have laughed to scorn
the idea of the handsome, wealthy. cul-
tured man of the world marrying the object
Of his attentions.
He was trihing with her-amusing him
self, of course.
And why should not Hugh Lauraine, the
darling Of the gods" turn from the rigid
restraints of aristocracy's bellies to amuse
himself with an actress-a widow with a
lovely face. a soft, sweet voice. and an in
nocent, sad trick of slowly lifting her great
gray eyes that stole away mems hearts.
Contrary to all their smiles, their cold
shouldered sneers, he had done the very
thing they least eXpected-offered her the
protection of his proud, patrician name, the
great love of his noble manhood-the love
for which other women had planned and
plotted In vain.
'Don'tr' she whispered hoarsley, weak
ly, putting out both frail hands as If to
ward Kim off. "Don't, Mr.. Lauraine, |
cannot bear it. II am not well, and
must hurry home. My little Laurie will be
anxious for me.
lie frOwned darkly and released the little
hands he had clasped.
at is always Laurie-never mer' he
jealously. $50 generous in your love to
her, SO mserly and prudish in your love to
me. Sometimes scorn myself for 1.-THE
mad worship give you. 1 would stiHe it
IL could-yOu are not worth 1t! You have
no appreciation-no hearth
She lifted her eyes, full of pain, heart
break and regret, to his face.
They were drenchcd with tears-tears
which he kissed away.
He compelled her to promise to see him
on the morrow, TO let him win her love, as
they walked arm in arm through the chill
cleaning to the door of her own little room
in the hotel,
In the corridor she paused and laid both
soft, white hands in his, lifting her ex-
pressiye eye: to his dark, tender face in
look which haunted him always-the men,
ory OF which remained when she was as the
fabric OF a dream.
Come veal or woe In the future" she
said, with slow smile, remember ALWAYS
that loyed you better than the world, self,
and my hope of Heaven. Meyer blame me
in the future. Goodbye"
lie kissed her tenderly again and again,
trusting her entirely.
So lie left her, anxious only for the
morning dawn which should again unite
them.
But how vastly foolish mortals are, who
build hopes on the morrow!
To Hugh Lauraine-unutterably happy
II brought note. brief and tear-stained-a
tiny note that dashed all his glad, bright
hopes TO atoms, that changed his whole ma
ture in its tenor, that made his life a bitter
CALLING thing.
because love yeu,' Gladys had writ
ten. II go from you never to cross youl
path again. ] am All ambitious, ,mercenary
woman-forget me. II We stood OH equal
ground, am not worthy of you; but be-
cause Of the great love, which is my only |
redeemlng feature, the love Of yours which
frightened, for a brief time, my lonely life,
will not let you sacrifice yourself for my
sake"
For while he was incrcdulous, then |
went mad with pain, Yainly searching
everywhere for the woman who had gone
from his life and taken with her all Its
brightness-all Its hopes.
But the years passed and he never found
her. lie became a cynical, disagreeable
man, totally unlike the genial Hugh of 9TH
er DAYS; his mother died, sorry at the last,
for the part size had taken in spelling his
life.
Society left him alone, weary at last Of
Its vain rndeaySrs TO rescue and interest
him; but ten years passed and ne never
found Gladys.
Long ago lac had given up the search in .
despair; long ago he had scorned to let .
himself remember the woman who had /
taken his life In her dainty hand, and /
marred Il beyond recognition; but the /.
wounds still hurt and he never saw a face